#Ghost x Fem!Reader
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>Silly sex with Simon Riley. đ
âFuck, love...â Simon's needy voice hits your ear, calloused hands roaming up and down your body as if his life depends on it, leaving a track of fire that burns from within.
âDon't call me love, mate.â His thrusts falter for a second, letting out a small chuckle before he starts moving again, his meaty cock slipping in and out of your needy cunt. Simon's grip tightens on your body, not leaving a single inch of skin untouched.
âDon't call me mate. Feels like I'm shaggin' one of the lads.â Your little giggles hit like music to his ears, even when they're interrupted by moaning the moment his tip slams against your cervix, letting you feel every single inch of his veiny dick.
âBet you'd like that, wanker.â Your playful insults do nothing but act as fuel for Simon, the little amused smirk he shoots you as he starts to thrust deeper into you, the sound of his muscular thighs slapping against your ass ring around the room, only adding to the atmosphere you both set minutes ago.
â'S much better than wanking.â His face only seeks deeper shelter into the crook of your neck the moment you try to push him away and call him gross while giggling, allowing his burly arms to wrap around your waist only to bring your warm body closer to his, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your neck despite the chuckles escaping his lips.
âWhat kind o' mints do soldiers use?â Simon couldn't let the quiet gasps take overâ not when he had you underneath him, looking prettier than ever, eyes glossy from laughing and the most lovely smile he's ever seen.
âWhat?â You ask after a few seconds, getting lost in the way Simon looks straight out of a pornoâ a thin layer of sweat covering his pale skin, muscles bulging out of his skin with the strain from thrusting into your sopping pussy, his face slightly scrunched up the moment your walls tighten around him.
âTac-tics.â You try to hold in your laughâ truly, you do, yet the cheeky grin Simon gives you is enough to make your resolve falter, giggles mixing in with the moaning at the feeling of his thick cock throbbing inside you, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks just to bring him in closer, keeping eye contact even as his eyes crinkle, deep chuckles escaping his lips despite himself.
Simon's lips crash against yours last second, part of him not wanting you to hear just how good you're making him feel, your warm walls wrapping around him like vice, making him thrust deeper and harder into you, shooting ropes of cum right into your cunt way earlier than he would've liked, yet the feeling of your wet tongue sloppily wrapping around his is enough to make him forget about any worries.
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simon riley x fem!reader
warnings: explicit language. soft smut. breeding kink.
On the continuation of my âSoft!Ghostâ ideas:Â
Imagine lovemaking with Simon.Â
Simon has youâhis pretty girlâtucked inside his bedroom, sandwiched between him and the mattress. Right in his arms, where you rightfully belong.Â
(In his arms, youâre protected. Safe. Nothing could possibly ever harm you.)
Of course, the intensity of sex differs with his moods. On some days, he is a delicious mix of dominant and aggressive, claiming your body with a certain roughness that reflects how possessive he is over you. But, on other days, all Simon wants is to possess your heart and soul, in some desperate frenzy to stake his claim over them.Â
You were made for Simon. In his eyes, that is the truth. How could it not be? Every inch of youâfrom the curve of your hipbones and the tanalizing way your bottom lip shines with a fresh layer of gloss to how your beautiful, doe eyes twinkle anytime he is nearâis all his. Youâre irresistible.
And when you lay beneath him, completely bare, ripe for the taking, whining out for his touch, what else could he possibly do than worship you?Â
One arm keeps him steadily up, towering over you; the other cradles your soft cheek against his palm. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone. Heâs gentle, smiling, even chuckling. âIâve got you, baby,â he purrs in that deep, hoarse accent. âShhh, darlinâ. Câmon, lemme take care of ya.âÂ
â SiâŠâ
Your body stiffens as Simon gently slides himself into your pussy, until heâs buried balls deep; he lets out a breathless âfuckâ as you tighten around his cock, followed by a low groan. âPerfect for me, arenât ya?â He pauses, leaning to kiss you for a moment.
âThatâs my good girl,â he mumbles against your lips, letting his tongue entangle with yours. âSo fucking good for me.âÂ
His hips slap against yours at a slow, gentle paceâmatching his thrusts. âCâmon, baby, fuck.â You whine in response, arching your back, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders while your pretty, teary eyes hold his gaze.Â
â SimonâŠ! âÂ
Simon chuckles, takes one of your hands in his, and flattens it against your lower stomach. âFeel that, love?â You gasp, nodding. There is an unmistakable bulge in your belly; you can feel it. âAye, thatâs me.â Your cunt takes him so unbelievably well; he cannot stop pistoning his cock in and out of you.Â
God, he thinks, you were made for him.
You were fucking made for me.Â
The only thing that could possibly be better than this isâ
âLemme make you a mum,â Simon suddenly says, groaning. âGod, baby, need to make you one.â His fingers find your nipple, pinching it before rubbing it back and forth, causing you to squeal. ââmake these pretty tits all swollen. Youâd be so bloody gorgeous, love.âÂ
Simon wants a family, so fucking badly. He is beyond desperate for one â ever since he looked into your eyes for the first time, and saw his future staring back. At the time, the feeling was confusing and disorientingâŠ.
âŠnow, it all made sense.
âYeah?â Mid-thrust, he kisses you again, swallowing your gasps and tiny whimpers as he splits you open on his cock. âYou gonna let me make you a mum?â Another thrust. âCâmon, baby, use your words, my girl.âÂ
You nod, unable to muster up a response to your husband; instead, your mouth falls openâpretty, pink lips dropping into a perfect âo." âP-Please, SiâŠâ your soft, little voice whines out, stirring up more heat in Simon.Â
(He loves your voice. So bloody fucking much. You could ask him to raze the Earth to a burnt crisp, and heâd do it for you.)Â
âPlease what, baby?âÂ
The sensation of his massive cock overwhelms you. You fall slack as an orgasm rips through your body, robbing away all of your inhibitions; all you can do is let out another high-pitched moan, praying your body gives him the answer that your voice cannot.Â
âFuck â gonna breed you, baby. Gonna have my kid in you by the weekend.â
Itâs a promise. His thrusts continue, in the exact same measure as before, not wanting to fuck you, but to make love to you. âYouâre so bloody beautiful.â Heâs gonna cum. Cum deep inside you; give you the family you deserve.
âLook at ya â bloody work of art.âÂ
Flushed cheeks; breasts sweaty and heaving with countless love marks scattered around the skin; your fingers card softly through his hair, pulling him closer to you. Heâs a lucky bastard, indeed.Â
âI love you."
Simon repeats those three wordsâ âI love you. I love you. I love you.â âagainst your mouth, feeling his entire body tauten before he spills his cum inside you.
I love you. You saved me. Youâre everything to me.Â
You smile up at him, flushed all prettily, and he flashes a smile back, taking a moment to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. God, he fucking loves you.
âI love you,â he says againâŠand againâŠand again.
notes: my attempt at writing smut for the first time in months. if it sucks, it's cause im in my late luteal phase.
#vic writes đ§ž#call of duty#cod mw#cod ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley imagine#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x fem!reader
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Sunshine
Simon âGhostâ Riley x fem!reader
Simon just canât stop talking about his fiancĂ©.
cw: mention of alcohol, anxiety, and pregnancy
The club is packed when Simon and his friends show up. If heâs being honest, he didnât even want to come, being dragged out of the house because they all claimed that he spends too much time with you. He doesnât think so, though. He spends the perfect amount with you in his mind. And he makes plenty of time for his friends so he doesnât see what the problem is.
He feels eyes on him as he pushes through all the dancing bodies and it makes him feel gross being checked out like that. This always happens and even though he tells them that he has a fiancĂ©, they donât seem to get the hint. Itâs gotten to the point where he got his own ring to get the point across-well, that and the fact that he just wanted one because he loves the idea of being connected to you in that way.
Simon gets to the bar and orders a beer, letting out a sigh as he resists the urge to text you. He knows something will be said and he doesn't want to be teased about it. Heâs convinced that everyone is just jealous and doesnât care that they roll their eyes whenever he mentions you. Heâs just a man in love and he doesnât see why thatâs his fault.
Once his drink is set on the bar, he takes a sip before turning to his friends. His mind immediately goes back to the night he met you. You were working at the bar down the street from where he lived at the time and the second he laid eyes on you, he immediately had to know your name.
âYou know, y/n is a bartender,â he speaks up, smiling down at his beer bottle.
âHere we go,â Soap replies with a roll of his eyes. He acts like heâs annoyed, but heâs actually secretly very happy for Simon and the fact that he was finally able to find someone he loved enough to settle down with.
âThatâs what, ten mentions of her in the last hour?â Gaz laughs and Soap and Price join in, teasing Simon yet again. âThe man is obsessed.â
âOh, heâs just in love,â Price corrects, clapping Simon on the shoulder. Heâs always been very supportive of your relationship and has even offered to officiate the wedding. âYouâll all feel the same way when you finally settle down.â
Simon canât help but smile at the defense Price is making. Theyâve gotten very close over the years, Price being someone that Simon looks up to. Heâs the one Simon goes to for any problem heâs having, the one he talked to before he proposed to you.
He doesnât care about his friendsâ teasing, though. He knows they donât really mean anything by it, theyâre just messing around. He knows that they really are happy for him otherwise they wouldnât have agreed to be his groomsmen. They just like to pick on him because they see him like a brother. Itâs the way they show him love without actually saying the words.
He takes his phone out of the pocket of his jacket to check the time and smiles at his lockscreen-itâs a photo of the two of you, grinning at the screen as you hold up a sonogram, tears in your eyes.
He didnât want to go tonight because he was worried about you and the baby but you forced him to go, insisting that youâd be okay and now that heâs here, heâs worried like he always is.
He misses you and his unborn daughter, wishes he was with you right now, his hand resting on your bump and you both snuggling up on the couch, watching that stupid reality show that he claims to hate but secretly loves.
Simon just worries and thatâs why he feels like he needs to be around you 24/7. Heâs read more parenting books than he can count and even though your daughter has been as healthy as can be at every scan, he knows that the knot in his stomach wonât go away until heâs holding her in his arms.
He sips on his beer, zoning in and out of the conversation with his friends, bringing you up any chance he gets even though he knows theyâre all done with him, making him take a shot every time he mentions you. Heâs already up to two in the last five minutes. Thatâs got to be a record of some sort.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and heâs quick to answer it when he sees your name and photo flash on the screen. He moves to a spot thatâs more quiet when he puts the phone up to his ear, plugging his other one with his finger so he can hear you better.
His heart is racing and he just knows something is wrong. Itâs gotta be. Why else would you be calling? He knows itâs just his anxiety and waits for you to speak before he can panic.
âHey sunshine,â he greets, grinning so widely just by hearing your voice on the other line. And when he hears the reason why youâve called, he almost falls to his knees, letting out a sound of pure joy as the line goes dead.
Heâs shoving his phone back into his pocket as he races back over to his friends, so excited to tell them the news. That heâs gotta go to the hospital and heâs gotta do it now.
âIâm gonna be a dad,â is all he says before theyâre all making a beeline for the door, all looking forward to seeing the little nugget, just knowing that sheâs going to be spoiled rotten between the four of them. Yeah, that little girl is going to be so lucky.
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x fem!reader#ghost x fem!reader#ghost x you#ghost cod x reader#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost cod
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Somehow managing to tie Ghost to a chair, you just wanna play with your Lt's dick. Too bad(?) for you, he's good at breaking ropes.
I would love to be utterly wrecked by him
Warnings: Ghost is sick of your shit. SMUT, slight degradation, unprotected PIV, fem!reader. Overuse of italics lmao. MDNI.
It wasnât easy, getting the Ghost to submit to you. It took months of breaking him down, getting him to trust you, to love you the way you love him. But now, with his wrists bound behind the chair heâs sitting on with those darkened brown eyes glaring at you through the mask, you can genuinely say it was worth it. Absolutely, most definitely worth it to see this huge man trembling beneath your gentle touch, whining when you refuse to give him attention where he needs you most.Â
     âFuckinâ âell, love, just fuck me already,â he grits his teeth when you run your the tip of your tongue along the dimple between his bare pectorals, purposefully avoiding his puffy nipples. âI canât feel mâarms.â
     âDo I need to gag you, Lieutenant?â You raise an eyebrow, dragging your tongue down his tensing stomach, dipping it into his navel to hear him gasp ever-so-slightly.Â
     Ghost huffs in annoyance, bucking his hips up against your palm as you press it against the bulge in his jeans. Heâs twitching, throbbing into your touch, precum already leaking through the layers of fabric. Youâve been teasing him for the better half of an hour, ignoring his pleas, but his entire neck and face has now turned a bright, vibrant red. It would be cruel not to give him some kind of relief at this point.Â
     âYou want me to let you out, baby? Hmm?â You coo, a faux sympathetic pout curling your bottom lip downward as you allow your fingertips to slip past the waistband of his boxers.
     If he was a dog, his ears would have perked up at your words. His broad chest starts heaving as he nods frantically, trying his hardest to hold back his desperate whimpers.Â
     âStop fuckinâ teasinâ me,â Ghost hisses, fists clenching behind his back when you remove your hand from his body altogether.
     âMmm, not very nice, Lieutenant,â you tut mockingly, crossing your arms beneath your naked tits to push them together, showing off the cleavage heâs aching to lick. âSay please.â
     His jaw tenses, but heâs not one to turn down a direct order.Â
     âPlease.â
     âThatâs more like it,â you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the chin of his balaclava while your nimble fingers work to unbuckle his jeans.Â
     Finally free from its suffocating confines, his heavy cock bobs wildly as he lifts his hips to aid you in pulling off the rest of his clothing. His tip is so irritated itâs nearly purple, and you almost feel bad. Almost. You shimmy closer to him between his spread legs, taking his fat dick in one hand and resting the other on his muscular thigh. You run your teeth along the length of it before wrapping your lips around his entire girth and bobbing your head rapidly.
     âFuuuck,â Ghost groans, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he throws his head back.Â
     You hum around his sensitive cock, hollowing your cheeks to give him better suction. His legs are already trembling, sweat dripping down the entirety of his wide body as he bucks his hips up, trying to push himself deeper into your tight throat. You work him up until heâs right at that blissful edge, but before he reaches his peak, you pull your mouth off of him with a wet pop. A furious sob escapes Ghostâs throat and this time, you really do feel bad.Â
     The remorse doesnât last for long, though. You barely have time to scramble out from between his legs before heâs breaking free of his restraints and standing at his full height to tower over your frozen figure. He cracks his neck as the ripped rope slips down his bulging forearms and falls to the ground. He approaches quickly but silently, grabbing your waist and manhandling you onto all fours.Â
     âLittle fuckinâ minx,â He rasps, positioning himself behind you and running his cock through your already slick folds. âThink itâs fun teasinâ me like thaâ? Huh? Struttinâ around with nothinâ on, shovinâ your tits in my face while mâall tied up anâ canât touch you.âÂ
     He smacks the tip of his cock against your swollen clit, snickering at the way you yelp and push your ass further back, enticing him. He clicks his tongue, holding your hips still.Â
     âGreedy, greedy,â Ghost teases, giving each of your asscheeks a sharp slap. âWhy should I give it tâyou, hm? Think yâdeserve this cock after torturinâ me?â
     âPlease,â you whine, âGhost, please, Iâm sor- ah!â
     Your plea is cut off when he feeds his entire length into your drooling pussy, stretching you out painfully but filling you up so, so full. Itâs too much and yet not enough, the way he lets his tip hit the plug of your cervix before pulling out until youâre empty. He repeats this a few more times, spanking you in between each pump.Â
     âAw, whaâs wrong, baby? Need me tâfuck you?âÂ
     Pitiful babbles of yes, yes, yes spill from your lips, and finally, Ghost pushes inside and stays there, pulsing in sync with the clenching of your needy walls.Â
     âSay please.â
     Fuck, youâre in for it now.
#ask me!#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#cod x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x female reader#ghost x fem!reader
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Take a Ride
Simon âGhostâ Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: Visiting your best friend Mechanic!Simon at the shop while heâs working on his bike.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI; smut; oral (f receiving); piv (wrap it before you tap it); language/cursing; jealousy
Co-written with the amazing and talented @munsonsmixtapes đđ
It wasnât unusual for you to pop into the shop midday to pester Simon for one reason or another. Heâll fake annoyance but secretly he loves it. Sometimes, youâll bring him lunch or youâll ask him to look at something on your car, or youâll just come to visit with him and sit on the hood of whatever he was working on. Today, he was working on his own bike during his lunch hour when you strolled in.
You looked pretty. He always thought you looked beautiful but today was different. Your hair was done and your sundress swayed as you walked in, nearly taking his breath away. He literally stuttered, practically dropping the wrench in his hand when he looked up to see you there.
âHey,â you waved cheerfully, âListen- do you have my helmet?â
You were referring to the helmet Simon bought you, that he kept in his bike so you could ride with him. He made sure you had all the proper equipment because your safety was his number one priority when you rode with him. Just the mention of the helmet has him remembering the last time you rode with him, your body flush against his back and your arms wrapped around his torso.
âYeah, itâs in there,â he says, gesturing to the storage box on the back of his bike. You sauntered over, your perfume filling up all his senses. âWhat do you need it for?â He asks, tilting his head as he wipes grease off his tools with a rag.
âIâve got a date,â you admit with a shy smile, pulling the pink helmet out of the box and locking it back up.
âYou arenât bringing your other gear? What about your gloves and your jacket? You canât wear a dress on a bike- you could get really hurt,â his voice is laced with concern and also something you donât quite recognize. You swear that he sounded⊠jealous? He couldnât be, you were just friends. Youâd always been just friends.
âIâll be fine,â you wave off his concern. âItâs a really short ride from here to the restaurant. Nothing is gonna happen.â
âYou should really wear your gear,â he tries to insist, âat least wear some pants.â His eyes flick down to your bare legs, the short dress hardly would do anything if you were in an accident. He also feels jealousy stir- imagining your dress hiked up around your waist, your thighs around some other guy on some other bike. The visual of you with someone else makes him feel sick.
You were just friends. He had no right to feel like this, and he knows that. Youâd been friends for years, and youâd been on plenty of dates- hell, youâve had some boyfriends. He has hated all of them, but he especially hates any guy willing to let you on a bike dressed so impractically. Maybe itâs because youâve never dated a guy with a bike, or maybe itâs just getting harder for him to push down the feelings he has for you. Heâs let them fester, shoving them down deep and has refused to acknowledge them. Maybe now itâs because youâre both finally single at the same time, and selfishly he thought now would finally be when he could confess how heâs felt.
Now, you're dating some other guy- probably some douchebag that wonât treat you right. Youâll fall fast and hard like you always do, and heâll be there to pick up the pieces like always. He probably rides a fucking Harley, Simon thinks, practically rolling his eyes at the thought.
âLook, heâs gonna be here any minute to pick me up- please donât do this right now, okay?â
âDo what?â He sets his tools down on his station, crossing his arms over his chest and thereâs something about the way theyâre flexing, the mix of sweat and grease making your thoughts nothing but impure. Seeing him like this always makes you crazy.
âAct all weird and possessive like you always do. Iâm allowed to hang out with people who arenât you.â Youâre seeing right through him and he hates it-that youâre always able to read him so well. It makes it even harder for him to hide his feelings for you.
If youâre being honest, you donât even want to go on this date. Youâre only doing to get over Simon and the only way you know how to do that is by getting under someone else. It started as a way to get his attention, to rile him up, to see if he felt the same way. But youâre pretty sure he only behaves that way because youâre the only person he hangs out with outside of work and he feels like heâs losing you every time you start seeing someone.
âI never said you werenât,â he scoffs. âAnd Iâm not angry that youâre hanging out with other people. Iâm angry because youâre going out with someone whoâs not me.â
âSimon-â
âIâm not finished,â he holds up a hand to stop you from talking. âYou drive me fucking crazy. You walk in here having no idea how I feel about you and seeing you in this,â he refers to your dress. âGod, it makes me want to-â he cuts himself off, his breathing getting heavy as he runs his hands along his face, trying to calm himself down.
âMakes you want to what?â You ask, putting on a flirty tone and he hates how badly he wants you-how badly he needs you right now, his cock already rock hard.
âYou donât want to know,â he shakes his head, knowing that all of the ideas that heâs cooking up would scare you away.
âI think I do,â you step closer, your hands pressing against his chest and his cheeks turn bright pink thinking about the fact that you can definitely feel how his heart is racing. âSay it,â you command, your hands moving up his chest as your arms loop around his shoulders.
âIf I had it my way, Iâd have you bent over this motorcycle and fuck you absolutely senseless.â His voice is even deeper and more raspy than normal and you feel like your legs could give out any second.
âThen whatâs stopping you?â He has to blink a few times, so close to pinching himself to make sure that heâs not dreaming.
âYou have a date,â he reminds you but you just step closer, twirling some of the hair thatâs at the nape of his neck, still looking at him all flirty and itâs driving him mad.
âI donât, actually. I was testing you.â Youâre smirking now as Simon furrows his eyebrows.
âYou what?â He feels so stupid for not having figured it out sooner. All of the things youâve done over the past few months are swirling around in his head and now he understands.
âI was testing you and you passed. I knew youâd give in one of these days.â
âYou tricked me?â He canât help but smile, impressed that you were able to do something like that without him picking up on it. He noticed everything that you do.
âI sure did. I thought youâd pick up on it, but you never did. For a smart guy, you really arenât that observant.â You let out a laugh as you lean into him and his arms wrap around you.
Simonâs hands rest on the small of your back, pulling you in flush to his body. He scoffs at your remark, rolling his eyes. He knows youâre right, thinking back to all the opportunities he had to tell you how he felt but never took. He was always so confident in every area of his life- except when it came to you. He overthought everything- heâd convinced himself that he had just imagined every sign.
âWhat if I just knew youâd like seeing me jealous?â he teases, his fingertips grazing the soft fabric of your dress. Heâs so full of shit right now, and you both know it. You canât help but chuckle at his attempt to save face.
âYou arenât wrong that I liked it,â you confess, biting your lip.
âIs this what you wanted?â He asks, his voice low and it makes you practically shiver. He tilts his head down so he can whisper close to your ear. âCan you feel how hard I am for you? Ditch the date and Iâll take you for a real ride. And we both know Iâm not talking about the bike.â
Your legs feel like jello and he catches you before they can give out, picking you up and setting you on the bike.
âAlready falling for me, hm?â He chuckles and all you can do is nod, your head spinning. His hands rest on your thighs, slowly sliding up them as he leans down, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss that juxtaposes his filthy words.
His large hands slowly sliding up your thighs make your body feel like itâs igniting. Heâs hardly touched you and you feel yourself falling apart under his touch. Youâd thought about his hands touching you like this for so long, and itâs better than you imagined it.
âIâve hardly touched you sweetheart,â he teases, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone. His low voice makes you practically whine, desperately pulling him closer. He kisses your lips one more time before he falls to his knees in front of you while youâre propped up on his bike.
He kisses down the length of your leg from your ankle until heâs pushing up your dress to kiss the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His plan is to absolutely worship you. He smirks, feeling you squirm at his touch and heâs quick to pull your panties down your legs and he tucks them into the back pocket of his coveralls.
Simon continues to kiss the spot gently as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, his arms looping around your thighs as he pulls your clit into his mouth. You let out a gasp before looking down at him, his eyes locking on yours, looking like he wants to devour you and you like he just might.
Heâs not gentle in the slightest, biting down again and again like a man starved and you have to hold onto the seat of the bike as best you can, especially when he pulls you closer. Youâre glad youâre sitting because you feel your body turning to jello as he gets more aggressive, moaning as his nails dig into your thighs.
His eyes are still on you and hearing those pretty sounds falling from your lips are making him even harder, causing his cock to strain in his jeans that heâs wearing underneath the coveralls. He needs to get inside you so bad, but the way youâre responding to him eating you out is definitely worth the wait.
Watching you like this, seeing that he has all the power to make you feel good is driving him crazy, stroking his ego much more than it should. Simonâs usually the one whoâs in control in the bedroom but he knows that he would fold at your command, that he would do whatever you asked because you have that much of an effect on him. Heâs literally on his knees for you. He doesnât like taking orders, but heâs sure that you asked him to jump, heâd ask how high.
âSimon, oh my god,â you whine and he swears heâs going to explode in his pants if he hears it again. He moves down to your slit to give it the same treatment and he doesnât miss the way your pushing against him, the bike rocking as you do so. His grip tightens on you to keep you still as he continues to work, still going at it more aggressively than he probably should.
He just canât help himself. Heâs been wanting this for longer than heâd care to admit and now something has been unleashed inside him. And the more he hears the sounds youâre making, the more he needs his cock to be the reason.
Simon pulls his face away from your cunt and before you can ask what heâs doing, heâs unzipping his coveralls, pushing it down his arms and legs before tossing it to the side. His pants are down to his ankles in record speed and you canât take your eyes off of his rock hard cock, the way itâs sticking straight, the fact that you were the cause of it.
You pull him closer and his lips are on your, desperate and hungry as his cock presses against you. His tongue slides into your mouth and you can taste yourself on him. You moan into his mouth as his hands push your dress up even higher.
âI donât have a condom,â he whispers.
âI donât care. I have an IUD and I just really need you right now.â Youâre voice is breathy and desperate and he grins as his cock slides inside, pounding into you as the bike rocks back and forth, the most dirty sounds pouring from your mouths as Simon fucks you absolutely senseless.
His lips find yours again and you feel like youâre melting when he nips at your bottom lip. Heâs got on that cocky smirk because of your response to him-as if his ego needed to be any bigger.
âFuck, taking me so well, princess. Who knew a little sweet thing like you liked it so rough.â His pace picks up even more, the bike still rocking and you both should be concerned about how unstable it is, but neither of you seem to care, too caught up in each other to even think about it.
âJust goes to show how little you know about me, Riley,â you reply and he goes even harder, fully seated now and you swear youâre so close.
âDo you like this?â He asks, his lips right by your ear. âLike it when I fill you up?â All you can do is whimper in response, feeling your body going limp in his arms as pounds into you again and again, not being so nice as he watches you finish, wanting the finale to be worthwhile.
Youâre screaming his name and he has to put his hand over your mouth, concerned that someone will come see what all the noise is about. Tears prick your eyes as he stays there, still fully seated, your screams muffled by his hand.
âDoing so well, princess. Thatâs it, just like that.â Once youâre coming down, he pulls out and wets one of the clothes at his station before cleaning you both up. He then helps you to your feet before pulling up his pants and his coveralls that you zip up for him.
Simon has no idea how heâs going to be able to finish his shift after all that. You kiss his lips and tell him youâll be waiting for him at your place when he gets off, telling him that you can keep his panties as long as he promises that there will be more where that came from tonight.
#biker!ghost#mechanic!ghost#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#biker!simon Riley#fargo smut#x reader smut#Simon ghost Riley x reader smut#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost x fem!reader#ghost cod x reader#ghost x you#ghost smut
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thinking about ghost who thinks too much and oral is the only way to shut his brain up sometimes
ghost x fem!reader nsfw below â filthy. only warning.

at first, it was never a method either of you thought of to try. in general, sex of any kind was just never on the table as it wasnât something either of you really brought up. the first time it happened, it was completely by accident. ghostâs mask was pressed up to the crooked bridge of his nose, pressing greedy kisses to your lips which you frantically returned. you grabbed at ghostâs shoulders and upper back as he backed you up onto a table, his strong hands grabbing below your thighs and hoisted you up onto the edge of the table with a quiet grunt against your lips.
it felt natural, really. so natural he didnât realize it until the second time this happened. ghostâs lips trailed down your jaw and down your neck as his fingers unbuttoned your pants, murmured âupâ to youâyou lifted your hipsâand he swiftly tugged down your pants and put them aside. your breath stifles in your throat for a moment as you propped yourself up on your forearms to watch his huge hands grasp right under your knees to spread your legs. a hot pulse flowed through your lower abdomen down to your clit, and youâre sure it lead to a dribble of your wetness.
his eyes are dark and wide. his pupils nearly overtaking his dark brown eyes, and you shudder under his gaze as this large, burly man slowly lowered to his kneesâhis arms reaching up to tug you closer to the end of the table. âghost..ââ you breathe out but he cuts you off the second he leans forward and he buries his face into your clothed core, his nose pressing against the fabric and he inhales. âjesus!â you huff, your face burning as you arenât able to tear your eyes away from him. ghost huffs and inhales your intoxicating scent and you want to smack him when a low, needy groan leaves his throat.
âfuckinâ hellââ he snarls, his voice uneven before he presses his tongue against the fabric of your underwear, a shaky breath leaving him as he licks, licks, licks, his tongue wetting the thin layer between him and your sweet pussy. before you get a chance to complain, his fingers are already tugging your underwear down. and after that, you watch the way his eyes glaze over like a cat pinning itâs prey right before he leans in for his meal.
#call of duty#cod#call of duty mwii#cod mw2#modern warfare ii#mw2022#mw2 2022#ghost x reader#ghost smut#ghost x fem!reader#ghost x female reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x fem!reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x female reader#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost mw2#ghost blurb
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Random Simon 'Ghost' Riley headcanons
sfw and nsfw
pairing: l.t. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader (cod mw)
tags/tw: domestic stuff, afab!reader, size!kink, dirty talk
a/n: and of course a few HC's for Ghostie as wellđ€
Simon 'Ghost' Riley MASTERLIST
sfw
-you know those mascots in full-body costumes? Yeah, Ghost hates those, gets on edge each time he sees one. He just gets this uncomfortable feeling in his body bc why go around masked like that?
-yes, he's aware of the irony
-your first kiss, technically, happened with his mask on,
-he wanted to kiss you but wasn't ready to commit fully, showing you his face meant a lot and he wasn't there, yet, so he just kinda directed your face from the TV to him by your chin and pressed his lips to yours despite the clothing concealing them
-you don't scare easily, even if he would disagree, but when having a shadow the size of him creeping up on you silently, which should be physically impossible for someone his size, it always makes you jump
-Ghost enjoys it for some reason, always repressing a smile when you gasp and clutch your chest with a hissed 'Simon!' despising that you never got used to it
-what you don't know is that he actively makes it harder for you, always staying in your blind spot when coming up behind you, silencing his step just like he does on stealth missions
-standard case of you falling first but he fell harder, it was a slow endeavour getting to know him, even slower when you started dating and he demanded that things wouldn't be rushed, but once he opened up he was practically already in love with you considering he rarely did open up to people
-he doesn't like gifts
-contrary to what people think, it's not because he doesn't know how to react, closer to the truth is that he's picky and doesn't like random things coming in surprises
-that's why Ghost always keeps a list of things he wants or is in interested in buying, one that you have unaltered access to just to keep track if you ever feel like gifting him something for a special occasion or if other people come to you when he just won't answer what he wishes for read Soap
-the ONLY casual gift he doesn't mind is when you get him a book, within reason of course bc yeah, he likes to read
nsfw below the cut
-on the topic of books, he doesn't read romantic stuff, if it isn't a book you push into his hands, then he knows what's between the pages: raunchy ass stuff you more often than now want him to act out, leaving you nervously giggling and then panting when he fully went into the role of fucking you silly
-another thing about Ghost that people think, but is wrong, is that he always so reserved
-this man can run his fucking mouth when he wants to
-perhaps others just don't notice, because he doesn't do it with them, but when you're by his side his face is for the most part ducked in level with your ear, making it his mission to rile you up enough so you're the one who grits out 'we're leaving '
-and the cocky bastard knows he will manage too, your resolve wearing down quick when he whispers stuff like 'pretty necklace, lovie, would rather it was my hand wrapped around your throat' and if he manages to catch you off-guard with that, mouth agape kinda surprised, he'll muse 'pretty little mouth like thatâll send a man wild'
-in the Riley household, there's one particular rule: if you buy any piece of clothing, either online or in-store, you're going to model it for Ghost
-doesn't matter what it is, he's gonna sit down in the living room waiting for you to come out for him to drink in your pretty self
-he always twirls a finger in a sign for you to spin around, not because he has any sense of fashion more than the normal man, he just likes to see all how your clothes flatter your figure
-and if it just so happens you only bought a pair of pretty panties or a flattering bra, his rule applies to those too, with the addition you'll come out in only those
-and so help you, but if your tits are on display or that pretty cunt of yours bared, he will not only make you spin but curl his finger, beckoning you towards him
-usually ends with you in his lap as he either plays and sucks at your nipples or you grind against his growing bulge before riding him
-guilty pleasure of his? your obsession with his arms and tattoos
-when you first started seeing each other, he always noticed how your eyes strayed to the ink peeking forth from his long-sleeved clothing, when you both got more comfortable and you saw him without a hoodie constantly, the way you drooled at his bulging biceps made it difficult adhering to his own rule of things going slow
-in fact, the first time you slept together was a consequence of your intrusive thoughts winning during a cuddling session
-you'd been positioned in-between his legs, running your hand over his arm curled around your waist, gaze following those delicious lines running along his forearm and then you just... dragged your tongue over his bicep, licking a long wet stripe on the muscle that tensed upon feeling your tongue
-there was a rumble against your back and a 'what the fuck was that?' making you glance up at Ghost with a sheepish smile with some explanation he didn't fucking buy for a second
-it ended with the both of you kneeling on Ghost's bed as he fucked you from behind, his arms circled around your neck, your nails digging into his forearm, a moaning mess as if you didn't know he killed men just like this but in a tighter chokehold
-so that's why he always wraps his tattooed arm around your front when you cuddle with him behind you, most time also seating himself on your right side, offering you the opportunity to trace the intricate lines decorating his skin
#simon ghost riley#ghost#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x f!reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x fem!reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon riley#simon riley cod#ghost smut#ghost fanfiction#ghost headcanons#simon riley headcanons#cod mw3#cod mw2#cod fanfic#cod headcanons#task force 141
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â COD MASTERLIST â˰
all works are 18+ MDNI!
áŻâ
Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley
â ONESHOTS
The Bet Ëââ° smut
Operation Eclipse Ëââ° angst
Bang Bang Bar Ëââ° smut
Forbidden Fruit Ëââ° smut
Happy Training Ëââ° angst & fluff
The Fugitive Ëââ° angst & fluff
Cat and Mouse Ëââ° smut & angst
Hot For Teacher! Ëââ° smut
The Girl Can't Help It Ëââ° smut
Bite to Break Skin Ëââ° smut
Salt to the Wound Ëââ° angst & smut read at your own discretion.
â DRABBLES
Peaches & Cream Ëââ° fluff & suggestive
Nuts And Bolts Ëââ° fluff & smut
Nice Ride Ëââ° smut
Ghost Garage Ëââ° smut
Number One Fan Ëââ° smut
The Bewitching Ëââ° smut
Rearview Ëââ° fluff
Bite My Tongue Ëââ° angst & smut
â BLURBS
Simon gets hurt⊠Ëââ° angst
Simon gets protective... Ëââ° fluff
Simon is a bull rider⊠Ëââ° smut
-> More bull rider simon... Ëââ° smut
Shameless smut (age-gap) Ëââ° smut
Pretending to be your boyfriend⊠Ëââ° fluff
A man is following you⊠Ëââ° angst
â SERIES
Tough As Nailsâon hold
-> Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy Ëââ° smut
-> Giddy Up, Cowboy Ëââ° smut
-> Lasso Ëââ° angst
-> Cowboy Like Me Ëââ° angst
áŻâ
Cpt. John Price
â ONESHOTS
Recon By Fire Ëââ° angst
I got news for you baby, youâre looking at the man! Ëââ° smut, fluff, & angst
áŻâ
Ops. Officer Alex Keller
â ONESHOTS
The Great Race Ëââ° smut
Backyard Barbecue Ëââ° smut
The Shadows Ëââ° angst
A Pleaser Ëââ° angst & smut
Crossing Lines. Ëââ° smut
áŻâ
The More The Merrier
â ONESHOTS
My Turn ft. price & ghost Ëââ° smut
@ebodebo - all rights reserved. please do not modify, repost, or translate any of my original work. none of my work is permitted to be reposted on any other platform.
#ËÊâĄÉË: rylea writes#cod#call of duty#fanfic#cod x reader#ghost#simon riley x reader#ghost x price x reader#ghost x reader#ghost smut#price smut#price x reader#john price smut#john price x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost x fem!reader#price x female reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#call of duty fanfic#cod ghost#ghost x you#cod price#price#ghostprice x reader#cod simon riley#simon riley imagine
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Where Ghosts Linger Obsessed!Simon x fem!Reader
In honor of both kinktober and spooktober, Iâve stepped out of my comfort zone to write something darker. Imagining Simon in this twisted scenario wasnât easy, but I wanted to push the boundaries and see where it would take me. Hope you enjoy this eerie little experiment!
TW: contains themes of obsession, depression, alcoholism, violence, child abuse, self-harm and non-consensual behavior. It includes dark psychological elements and emotional distress. Please read with caution.

London. Fucking London.
A city that thrived on misery and despair, where the air was thick with the stench of piss and where Simon Riley found himself suffocating in his own personal hell. He hated the crowded streets, the gray, lifeless sky, and the dirty rain that seemed to wash away any trace of hope. London was a festering wound, and Simon was stuck in it, rotting from the inside out.
His apartment was a reflection of that rot. A shithole in Southwark that was as neglected as he was. The landlord didnât give a shit about it, and neither did Simon. Why bother? This place was a bloody tomb, and he was just another fucking corpse waiting to decompose in it. The walls were stained with years of filth and smoke, the paint peeling off like the skin of some dying beast. He lived in dirt, where he belonged, surrounded by the remnants of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.
The medals on the shelf, once a source of pride, now sat gathering dust, their shine dulled by time and indifference. A painful reminder of who he had been, and who he would never be again. Heâd been an elite soldier, a protector, a fucking weapon. But that life was over, dead and buried just like the people heâd failed to protect.
Now, he was nothing but a broken-down wreck, a ghost haunting the ruins of his own past.
How pathetic.
It had been a year since the army had tossed him out on his arse, like a piece of shit they couldnât be bothered to flush. âEarly retirementâ was the official story, but Simon knew better. Heâd seen their looks, heard their whispers. They thought he was broken, fucked in the head. And they were right. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the undying rage that simmered just below the surface of his inked skin, ready to explode at the slightest provocationâthey were all signs that something inside him had snapped. And it had.
The day Johnny died, the last bit of humanity in him had died too.
All that was left was anger, grief, and a deep hatred for the world and himself.
The military forced him out after he nearly killed a rookie during a training exercise. He could still hear the bone breaking, still feel the flesh tearing under his bare hand. It had taken four men to pull Simon off, and even then, heâd been like a rabid dog, snarling and spitting, desperate to finish what heâd started.
After that, there was no saving him. They gave him some bullshit about ârest and recovery,â about how he needed to âtake time for himself.â But he knew what they meant. They wanted him gone, out of sight, out of mind. Another broken soldier thrown on the scrap heap, just another casualty of a war that never really ended.
Most days, he was angry. So fucking angry that it felt like he was burning from the inside out, like his veins were full of liquid fire.
Heâd go out looking for something, anything to let the rage out before it consumed him. Heâd pick fights in pubs, in alleys, in abandoned sites, anywhere he could find some poor bastard who looked at him the wrong way. It didnât matter if he won or lost either.
On the days when the anger wasnât there, he felt nothing.
Just a cold, hollow emptiness that left him numb and disconnected from everything. Those were the days when he couldnât bring himself to leave his soulless flat, when heâd sit in that creaky old armchair and drink himself into oblivion with cheap whiskey.
Those were the days he feared the most tooâthe days when he didnât care if he lived or died, when the gun in the drawer seemed like the only way out of the endless nightmare.
Something always stopped him before he could pull the trigger.
Maybe it was cowardice, or maybe it was some small, stubborn part of him that still clung to life, even though he didnât know why. Whatever it was, it kept him going, kept him trapped in this limbo of existence. He would get up, go through the motions, take his pills, and try to convince himself that tomorrow might be different, even though he knew it wouldnât be.
Sometimes, he tried to fight it and hold on to some semblance of a life. Heâd wake up at dawn, like he used to, force himself to shave, to shower, to eat. Heâd try to follow the old routine, the one that had kept him sane during all those years of deployment.
However, it never worked. Heâd been a soldier, a man with purpose, but now he was nothing. Just a useless, sick in the head, broken piece of shit, abandoned by the only thing that had ever given his miserable life any meaning.
To ease the pain, he walked during the night and slept through the day. The only time he could find any peace was under the dark sky, the only time the voices in his head quieted down, even if just for a little while. Sometimes he was drunk, stumbling through the dirty streets like a wraith, barely able to keep himself upright. Other times, he was sober, the cold night air cutting through the fog in his mind, sharpening the edges of his thoughts. He wandered the shitty, empty streets of the worst parts of London for hours, sometimes until the sun started to rise, trying to outrun the demons that haunted him.
It was on one of those nights when he saw you for the first time.
It was a cold, damp night in October, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you feel like you would never be warm again. He was sober, or maybe he just felt that way due to the cold, because for once his mind clearer than it had been for a seemingly endless year.
His fatherâs face flashed before his eyes, twisted and angry, the same expression the bastard always wore when he was about to beat the living shit out of him. Simon could almost feel the blows, the sting of the belt, the sharp pain of a fist connecting with his ribs. Heâd learned early on not to cry. Crying only made it worse. So heâd learned to take it like a man, to bury the pain deep down where it couldnât touch him. But that pain had never really gone away. It had just festered, turned into something dark and ugly that had followed him his whole life.
And then there was the memory that haunted him most of all.
The day heâd come home to find lifeless bodies in his childhood home, his family slaughtered because of him. Because of a bloody mission that had gone sideways, because he hadnât been fast enough, smart enough, good enough. Heâd dug himself out of a grave with a fucking rotting jaw, only to find his brother, his dear mother, his baby nephewâall of them dead, butchered like mere animals because of him. He will never forget the sweet, nose-wrenching stench of corpses and blood that filled the house.
That was the day Simon Riley had died.
The day Ghost had been born.
He was so lost in these thoughts that he almost walked right past you. How could he do that?
Walk past you.
Oh you. You were standing under a rusty streetlamp, the rain forming a mist around you that caught the orange light in a soft, golden halo. For a moment, Simon thought he was seeing things. Maybe he wasnât as sober as he thought, and the whiskey heâd downed earlier was playing tricks on him. Because you didnât look real.
You looked like something out of a dream. A hallucination.
You were dressed simply, in clothes that were too thin for the cold weather, but Simon barely noticed. It was your face that held his attention, the way the light played across your skin, making it glow against the backdrop of the city. Your hair was wet, locks sticking to your cheeks and shoulders, but you made no effort to brush them away. They hid your eyes for a moment before you shifted slightly, looking down at your phone and he saw themâeyes that seemed to stare right into his pathetic soul.
For a seemingly endless moment, Simon just stood there, staring at you, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him.
You didnât belong here, in this ugly, rundown part of London, in the middle of a miserable night. And then, out of the blue, a sudden, crazy thought flickered through his broken mind.
Maybe you were waiting for him.
The thought was absurd, ridiculous even, but it latched onto Simon's twisted mind with the tenacity of a pitbull, refusing to let go. Maybe you were there for him, a bloody angel in the midst of this wretched city, just standing there in the piss-poor rain as if you didn't belong to the same shitty world that had turned him into this... thing.
This broken, hollow shell of a man.
He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of desperation that clouded his better judgment, but it didnât help. The sight of you had triggered something deep inside him, something he hadnât felt ever. It was like a spark had been ignited in the pitch-black darkness of his mind, a tiny flicker of light that he was terrified would go out if he didnât hold on to it. Maybe it was the booze still swirling in his body, maybe it was the years of torment and guilt twisting his brain into knots, but he couldnât stop thinking about it. He couldnât stop himself from believing, if only for a moment, that you were meant for him.
He took a step closer, the soles of his black boots splashing in the cold, dirty puddles on the pavement, but you didnât seem to notice.
Simonâs pulse quickened, his breath shallow and uneven as he moved closer, his steps soundless despite the wet pavement beneath him. He surveyed the area with practiced eyes. The street was empty, a desolate stretch of asphalt and crumbling brick, lined with decrepit buildings that looked like they hadnât seen a lick of care in decades. There were no people nearby, no signs of life in the windows above.
Just him and you, alone in this forgotten corner of the city.
You were still oblivious to his presence, lost in whatever was on that bloody phone of yours. He watched you, hazel eyes narrowing as he considered his next move. He wasnât sure what he wanted to do. Part of him just wanted to get closer, to see you more clearly. But there was another part of him, a darker part, that wanted more.
Simon moved closer, every step deliberate, controlled.
He felt like a predator stalking his prey, his military training coming back to him in full force. It was second nature to him now, the way his mind cataloged every detail, every possible threat or escape route. He had been trained to hunt, to go for the throat, to eliminate, and those instincts were hardwired into his core, impossible to shake even after all this time. The lines blurred in his mind, his thoughts tangling up in the memories of past missions, of dark nights spent creeping through hostile territory, of the adrenaline that surged through him when he was on the hunt.
For a brief second, Simon could almost hear his old captainâs gruff voice echo in the hollow of his mindâa special forces operatorâs worth is tested in blood. The words twisted in his chest, cold as the barrel of his rifle, his breath catching in his throat. A phantom touch grazed his shoulder, and for a heartbeat, he could almost feel Gaz thereâtapping lightly to signal the breach. His brother, always at his side. But no, not anymore. He must be a lieutenant now...
Simon blinked hard, forcing the ghosts back into the shadows.
He focused on you instead, the only anchor left in the storm.
Just as he was about to take another careful step, a sharp, sudden sound shattered the stillness of the night. Your phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the silence like a knife. Simon froze, instinctively ducking behind the wreck of an old, rusted car parked at the edge of the street. Your lovely voice was tinged with frustration as you spoke. It was quiet, almost too quiet, yet it clung to the air with a strange sweetness that made his breath falter.
In that moment, something in him shiftedâlike a taut wire snapped loose, vibrating through his chest. It was an obsession born not of choice, but of instinct.
âDerek? Where are you?â
Derek.
Simonâs stomach twisted at the sound of the name. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, hot and vicious, as he imagined that bastard leaving you out here, alone in the dark, like you were nothing. You were too good for this shithole. And Derek, whoever the fuck he was, had left you, you out of all people, stranded.
Simonâs hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as he fought to keep his temper in check.
âNo, I told you I didnât know this area,â you said, pacing back and forth, the anxiety clear in your every movement. Your tone was sharp, but beneath it, however, Simon could hear the fear creeping in. âNo, Iâve been wandering around for an hour! Iâm lost, Derek, and this place is creeping me out. I donât know where I am. Help me, please."
Simon felt a surge of protectiveness, mingled with fury.
Of course you were creeped out. You should be. This was no place for someone like you. You were lucky, though. So damn lucky that Simon had been the one to find you, that it wasnât some thug or worse, some twisted bastard whoâd see you as easy prey. Oh no, you were safe with him, even if you didnât know it.
Safe from everything except him.
âI donât care about the discount in the pub, come on,â you huffed, your voice trembling a bit, now tinged with a note of desperation that made Simonâs chest tighten painfully. âThe guys will understand, Iâm sure. Please, just come and help me.â
Simon could almost hear Derekâs response in his headâa lazy, careless dismissal, maybe a drunken laugh as he waved off your concerns. The thought made Simonâs blood boil.
Derek didnât deserve you.
Didnât deserve to be anywhere near you, didnât deserve to breathe the same air as you. You were precious, an angel in a city full of demons, and that bastard was too fucking stupid to appreciate you. If Simon ever got his hands on him, heâd make sure Derek knew exactly what kind of danger heâd put you in. Heâd break every bone in his worthless body, make him pay for every second youâd been left out here to fend for yourself.
âI told you I couldnât come tonight, but you insisted, so I did,â you continued, your voice growing more strained with every word. âI need your help. Please, come and pick me up. Iâve got work in the morning, I donât feel really good and I really need to get home. What? Yeah, Iâm a little bit tipsy, so what? Iâm lost. Please.â
Simonâs jaw tightened as he listened to you, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You were begging now, practically pleading and it made his skin crawl.
You shouldnât have to beg. Not for something like this.
You deserved better, so much better. You deserve someone who would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make sure you were never in a situation like this in the first place. Simon wasnât good for much anymore, but he knew how to protect. He knew how to take care of those he cared aboutâheâd spent his whole life doing it, even if it had all gone to shit in the end.
But Derek clearly wasnât that man.
Simon could hear the frustration in your voice as you asked, âYou called a taxi? Really? You couldnât just come?â
There was a long pause, and he could feel his heart beating faster, his muscles tensing as he waited for your reaction.
When you finally spoke again, your voice was much softer, much resigned. âOkay. Fine. Weâll meet tomorrow, then.â
You ended the call with a deep sigh.
For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the ground, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Simon watched you from his hiding spot, his mind racing. The deadly fury he felt toward the pathetic excuse of a man you were speaking with was almost overwhelming, but underneath it, there was something elseâsomething darker and more insidious. A need to be the one you turned to, the only one you could rely on. He wanted to be the one who took care of you, who made sure you never had to feel this way again.
But he couldnât just walk up to you, not now. Not yet. You were too vulnerable, too raw, and he didnât want to scare you off. He had to be careful and had to find the right way to approach you. You needed to see him as a protector, not as a threat. His mind was a mess of emotions, the anger, the need and the sick sense of possessiveness all tangled up together. He couldnât let that control him. He had to be smart about this, had to play it right.
Simon took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly.
He had to be smart about this, had to think like the fucking special forces operator he once was.
The shadows of his old life clung to him, and in the quiet of his mind, he could almost hear Priceâs voice barking ordersâto scrape up every damn thing he could find. That was his mission now, wasnât it? To know you. To learn your name, where you lived, where you worked, every inch of your life, mapped out like terrain before a strike. It was the instinct that kicked in, something so ingrained it almost felt like muscle memory.
Johnny would have definitely teased him for his honest mistakeââforgetting the basics, Lt.,ââhis voice mocking, lighthearted, but Simon couldnât let this slip through his fingers. He needed to know everything. You were his target, but not to eliminate.
His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you from his hiding spot. The rain continued to fall, pattering against the metal roofs, but Simon barely registered the cold droplets soaking through his clothes. All his focus was on you, every nerve in his body attuned to your slightest movement. You stood there, alone and vulnerable.
He inched closer, moving with the same precision and silence that had once made him a ghost on the battlefield.
Despite his sizeâbroad shoulders, heavy muscles that made him look more like a walking tank than a manâhe moved with an eerie grace, his footsteps soundless on the wet pavement. Decades of military training had taught him how to blend into the shadows, how to become part of the night, after all.
He was close now, too close to risk you noticing him, so he stayed low, hidden behind the wrecked row of cars. He couldnât see you anymore and that frustrated him to no end. It was like torture, being this close and yet so far, but he knew he had to wait. Patience was something heâd learned the hard way, and now it was paying off.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a taxi pulled up to the curb. Simonâs heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening as the carâs headlights cut through the darkness. He heard the window of the vehicle roll down, the driverâs voice breaking the tension in the air.
The driver called out, his voice hoarse but polite.
And he said your name.
It hit Simon like a sledgehammer, echoing in his broken mind, searing itself into his memory. He repeated it to himself, over and over, like a mantra. He would never forget it for the rest of his miserable life. He would burn down entire cities to remember it.Â
âYes, thatâs me,â you replied, her voice softer now, but Simon caught every word, hanging on to them like they were the most important thing heâd ever heard.
He strained to catch the rest of the conversation, hoping for more clues, more intel. You murmured something about the old market in downtown London to the taxi driver, and Simonâs mind raced, trying to piece together what little he knew. The old marketâthat could be a clue, a starting point. It wasnât much, but it was something.
And right now, that something was all he needed.
The door of the taxi shut with a soft thud, and Simon was left alone in the dark, empty street, the rain falling steadily around him, soaking him to the bone. But he didnât care. All he could think about was the name that now echoed in his mind, the name that had given him a purpose, a reason to keep going.
He had a name. He had a direction.
As the taxi drove away, its taillights disappearing into the night, Simon finally let out the breath heâd been holding.
His muscles ached from the tension, but there was a strange sense of relief that washed over him, a feeling of liberation. He had something to hold on to now, something tangible. He knew your name. He knew your name, and that meant everything.
He stood there, letting the rain wash over him, his mind buzzing with possibilities. He could find you, he could get close to you. He wasnât the man for you now, but he could become the man you needed. He could become your provider, your guardian, the savior you deserved. He could protect you, keep you safe, take care of you, and in return, you would give him the thing he craved the most.
A reason to live.
You didnât know it yet, but you were about to become the most important person in Simon Rileyâs life. And he wasnât going to let anything or anyone stand in the way of that. The storm that had raged inside him for so long had quieted, leaving behind a cold and unyielding determination. He had a purpose now, a mission. One he had to see through alone. Price would have approved, Simon was sure of itâGaz and Soap too. He could almost feel them at his back, their shadows guiding him forward.
This wasnât for them, though. This was for him.
For the part of him still capable of feeling something other than anger. He would find you again, and when he did, you would never be alone, vulnerable, or scared again.
Because Simon Riley was a man who protected what was his.
And you were his.

⌠Masterlist
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod fanfic#cod x you#cod x reader#cod#ghost cod#call of duty#call of duty x reader#ghost#ghost call of duty#ghost x you#cod mw2#ghost mw2#cod ghost#obsessed!simon#obsessed!ghost#betweenstorms#stormy writes#simon x reader#ghost x y/n#simon x fem!reader#ghost x fem!reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024
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âGOOD DAYS
â âđâËâč GOOD DAYS â singledad!simon riley x ex-military!fem!reader
fic idea from my cutie mootie @hyperfixiation-station <3 ( i heart u )
⥠taglist
⥠part one, part two, part three, part four, part five //
!!description.
the world isnât safe. price would tell him that their hands are dirty so the world can stay clean. but some parts of the world are still full of rot and decay. so much, that simon himself doesnât think he can keep his hands dirty enough to keep the world untainted.
maybe this is a job for two. where you need simon, and simon needs you. whether he likes it or not.
!!characters.
simon âghostâ riley + penelope âpennyâ riley + task force 141 + Ocâs
!!warnings.
angsty fic, does not follow the events of the games, simon is a single dad, reader is ex military, trauma, ptsd, graphic violence, scars (reader + simon ), strangers to friends to lovers, requited unrequited love, slowest slow burn i have ever written
#. ( cod masterlist. )#simon riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#simon âghostâ riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#simon cod#ghost x fem!reader#ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost cod#cod mwiii#cod x reader#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon riley angst#ghost angst#cod angst#tf141
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Hiii! I just wanted to request a Baby's breath and â/âŁïž for Simon Ghost Riley for the apothecary. Ghost and the reader could be going on a family trip with their baby to the zoo or aquarium. I'd like to kind of see him stuggle with his past, and wonder why his father couldn't enjoy his time with his kids like he does. I'd also like to see him go to the reader for comfort too.
A Simon req!! Thank you so much for requesting! Hope you like it â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem! reader
Word count: 1.3 k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, dad! Simon, mom! Reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, cw abuse mention, cw panic attack.
Katy's one year celebration đ
Perks of wearing a mask at work means that no one recognises you once you're out of it. Another pro, is that no one will bother you at the yearly family day that Price shamelessly told his lieutenant that it's mandatory for the entire 141 to join. Even though Simon knows it technically isn't, he still decided to bring you and his little ones to the zoo just because, A. The entrance is free, and B. He gets to spend time with you, little Tommy and baby Ellie, which is rare these days. A win/win for Simon, as long as nobody recognises him and decides to chat him up while his kids are clinging onto him like peanut butter on bread.
The entire zoo's speakers are blaring with random animal noises that irks Simon. Cows mooing, monkeys screeching, dolphin noises and snakes hissing; he has no idea why a zoo would even play animal noises when the animals themselves are particularly screaming in his ears. The sun is blasting on him, making the back of his neck sweat, and his kids irritable. Baby Ellie gurgles on her stroller, shielded by the folding canopy (and her towering dad) with a portable fan clipped on the handle. She's comfortable and happy enough just staring at the colourful parrots flying around. While Tommy is clutched behind his leg, afraid of the pointed beaks, and sharp claws. He jumps when a bird suddenly flaps its wings too close to him. Even with all the sounds and his kid grappled around him, he truly enjoys their company. He smiles down at Tommy, fingers brushing along the boy's soft curls.
His mind wanders back to his childhood, that his own father never showed the same enjoyment when he's out with his family, enjoying his time more with a bottle of amber liquid in between his crooked fingers instead of spending time with them without a metal hanger in his hand.
Simon pats Tommy atop his head, cowering and hiding his face on Simon's denim. â's alright, just a bird.â
âI know dad, but they're so scary when they fly. I want mum.â He mumbles back, Simon can feel the tears coming as his son's fingers dig into the denim of his pants.
âMumâs cominâ,â he hears sniffles, and he thinks he's not doing a good job at this. âShe's gettin' your drink remember?â
Tommy looks up, big brown eyes filled with tears. âI don't like the birds, dad.â
âOkay, let's move along then. Want to look at the giraffes again?â
Tommy sniffles again, pouting but nodding a quick yes. âCarry?â
Simon sighs with a brief smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, surrendering to the whims of his five year old. âRight, arms up, Tommy.â With one swift move, his son is wrapped around his arm while his free hand pushes the stroller away from the bird enclosure. Wheels squeak, and Ellie is out of the trance signaled by her piercing shriek. âDamnit,â Simon whispers, going around the stroller, he takes his crying daughter in his other arm like a professional. âYou're okay, El, what's wrong?â Ellie continues to cry, mouth wobbling, eyes that are similar to yours look at him through tears with her fists wrapped around her dad's shirt.
âDad, the birds!â Tommy hides behind the crook of his dad's neck, crying in tandem with his sister when he realizes that they haven't gone that far from the scary birds.
âTommy, they're just birds.â His son wails from his accidental cold words, and in turn, making Ellie sob louder. People stare at him, stopping to give him the stink eye, some even stop to stare at where the ruckus is coming from. It's like he can hear their thoughts, âlook at that dad who can't handle his own kids.â or âWhat is that big brute doing to his kids?â He doesn't care what they think of him, but he doesn't want them to think that they're crying because he hurt them. He'd never do that, he'd never be like him.
All the noises, the heat, the pointed stares, and how Simon's heart pounds at every cry of his children, children that he can't even calm down without your help. It all makes his breathing stagger, muscles tightening, and his palms clammy and tingling. Symptoms that he's awfully too familiar with.
He thinks after having two children he'd be good at this, not great or even amazing, just okay, average at raising his kids so they'd grow up normally and well adjusted. Is he even built for this? Is he capable of loving without leaving teeth marks? Without turning out like his father? Or is he ruining everything?
âLieutenant, is that you?â A sudden voice calls out, a head of dark hair and bushy beard pops out from his peripheral. Great, someone that recognises him without the mask. Just what he needs.
âNo.â Simon answers gruffly above the cries while he uselessly bounce his wailing kids in his arms.
âNah, I know that's you! I can never forget those terrifying eyes of yours.â The sergeant bounds up to him, he remembers him from the last three missions the man was a part of. Simon regrets lending him his lighter once, now that he's all friendly to him. âThat your kids? They're adorable.â
âSergeant.â No, I stole them, Simon wanted to quip back. The man clearly cannot read the room while his babies are bawling their eyes out. He suddenly wants to punch something. Or just walk away, huffing and puffing. âA bit busy hereââ
âThey look a lot like you! I never thought you had a face under that skull mask.â If looks could kill, Simon has committed murder in the middle of the zoo. In front of the bird enclosure for that matter. ââThe Ghostâ being a dad,â the sergeant shakes his head in bewilderment. âSounds weird,â he backtracks quickly, âa g-good kind of weird though.â
Simon's seething, his blood rushing in his ears as everything overwhelms him. From how Tommy's overalls scratches on his side, from how the sweat flows down on his back, snaking along his spine. And the noise, people chatting endlessly, birds squawking, the fucking speakers blaringâ he swallows thickly, jaw tightening, eyes darting along the crowd, alert, and pupils blown out. Then, a hand reaches out to his bicep, warm, soft and comfortably familiar over his searing skin. His heartbeat slows down at the mere sight of you.
âHi,â you smile, eyes roaming around his âdeer in the headlightsâ look. Squeezing once, twice and thrice for good measure, you quickly place the plastic bag full of cold drinks on the stroller. Without missing a beat, you take Tommy in your arms, easing his cries almost immediately. âYou must be sergeant Willems, it's nice to meet you but can we take a raincheck on the pleasantries? A bit busy here.â Smiling sweetly, Simon's subordinate nods, giving you and Simon a curt nod and then scampering away.
Simon gazes upon you with softness in his brown eyes, saccharine affection as he slides next to you closer. Hip to hip, he tries hard not to melt into you. Even if you glance at him with the same tenderness.
âMummy,â Ellie murmurs, tear stained cheeks greeting you. You pat her back as she lays her head down on her father's chest. Lips still frowning, and nose scrunched, she looks like Simon during Tommy's birth. Her cries subsides, a tiny fist wrapped around your finger.
âI'm here, baby.â You coo, fixing your hold on Tommy while you flick your eyes towards Simon, meeting with his own. âI'm right here, Si.â You seem to always know what's going on inside his head, knuckles brushing along his cheek, you wipe away a bead of sweat. He wants to lean into your touch, if not for the numerous eyes roaming around.
He inhales shakily, a restart button for his breathing. Muscles relaxing, forehead pressed on your own briefly and palm spread across the small of your back, he lets his ugly emotions fly away with the wind as you chastely peck his jaw.
âYou're good, Simon.â
#request done#the kr8tor's creations#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#cod fanfic#call of duty x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley#dad! simon ghost riley#dad! ghost#dad ghost x reader#dad au#cw panic attack#x reader#fanfic#call of duty fanfic#simon ghost x you#ghost fluff#simon riley fluff#dad! simon riley#simon riley x fem!reader#ghost x fem!reader#ghost fanfiction#katy's apothecary#one year anniversary đ
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A one-night stand with Simon completely ruins you for any other man.
His hands are forever tainted with blood and sin, yet despite the callouses adorning the rough skin, Simonâs touch is uncharacteristically gentle for someone his size, nearing a dangerous softness that has your heart beating faster by the second.Â
His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down onto his thick, hard cock, the flared tip slamming into the depths of your cunt, every single sensitive spot stimulated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the dimly lit room, mingling with your moans.
âLook at you.â His deep voice is thick with approval, tired eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the swell of your tits, the curve of your waist, admiring you like you're nothing short of a work of art. So fucking perfect, and all his for the night.Â
âFuckinâ beautiful.â More than deathâs instrument, Simon Riley is just a man, unable to resist temptationâ unable to resist the pleading look in your eyes, silently begging for more. His grip on your hips falters, one of his hands trailing up your sweaty, warm skin, pulling you down until your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck, your soft lips hovering over his pulse, a silent display of trust given with such ease to a complete stranger.Â
He pulled back and thrust inside you again, setting a less brutal rhythm, nothing in his hazy mind but the goal of making you cum first. He couldnât help but reach between your bodies, applying light pressure on your swollen clit as he fucked you deeper, his thick tip ramming against your cervix over and over, his breath hot against your skin with each groan leaving his lips.
His free hand comes up to grasp your jaw, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a primal dance of lust. The bitter taste of tobacco and bourbon in his saliva makes you whine, your soft hands coming up to cup his cheeks, half-lidded brown eyes meeting your gaze when you pull away.
âFuck⊠gonna cum.â Simonâs breath grows heavier at the pure hunger in your eyes, dancing along a vulnerability he wasnât used to. Amid the pleasure coiling in your stomach, your hips begin to move to match his intense pace, meeting his thrusts halfway. Simonâs thumb presses harder against your swollen clit, circling it slowly, your walls tightening around his aching cock, dragging a quiet, muffled moan out of him.
âThatâs it, sweetheart, cum for me.â Simonâs voice quivers as he lets out a low groan, his free hand going down to grab a handful of your ass, the fat and muscle seeping through his fingers when he squeezes. He pushes deeper into you, trying to reach that blissful peak you both crave. His thrusts grow more desperate, a familiar tightness in his lower stomach threatening to make him cum, using your body as leverage to fuck into you harder, deeper.Â
âOh⊠oh, fuck.â His cock twitches at your whiny moans, your walls growing even tighter around him, eyes rolling back as you finally collapse on top of him, heavy breaths leaving those soft lips he has grown to adore. Simon follows right after, unable to hold himself back, burying his cock inside you as deep as possible. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your insides, marking you as his, even if only for that night.Â
âYou okay?â He tucked your face into his neck, allowing you to breathe in his scentâ cigarettes, gunpowder, and the faint smell of licorice. He leaned down, pressing tender kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, not minding the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. His hands are warm and gentle, running up and down your back as you both catch your breath, giving you time to recover.Â
âMhm.â He pulled out of you slowly, tugging you into his side, his hand drifting down to your belly, rubbing circles on the tender skin to soothe you, his other hand pulling you closer, the aftermath of your passion lingering between you. Your fingers linger on his side, hesitantly running up and down, feeling the multiple bumps from old scars, gently rubbing a particularly bad set over his ribs. Â His breath hitches, yet he remains quiet, allowing you to have all of him.
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simon riley x fem!reader
Imagine holding Simon when he cries.Â
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legendâseemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isnât it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. Youâre his girl, the love of his life. His true loveâhis only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood. Â
So imagine your Simon arriving home one eveningâdead silentâmerely shuffling his way to where youâre seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission?Â
âWhat is wrong, baby?â You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in.Â
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life.Â
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it.Â
âSimon,â you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. âWhat happened, my love?âÂ
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, untilâŠâItâs my fatherâs birthday today.â His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness.Â
Your face falls at that. âOh, Simon.â A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing.Â
âI loved him,â Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasnât the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-oldâall scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parentsâ bedroom.Â
âLoved him so bloody much.âÂ
You donât know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. âI know you did.â You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot.Â
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
âDo yaâŠâ he hiccups, clearing his throat. âDo ya thinkâŠin another lifeâŠ?âÂ
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. âMaybe, my loveâŠâÂ
Simon nods. âMaybe,â he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside.Â
âItâs okay, baby.â
You kiss his temple.
âYouâre alright. Let it out, baby.âÂ
Heâll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, heâll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his motherâs special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakesâa cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batterâall while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest.Â
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protectiveâso unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
#vic writes đ§ž#call of duty#cod mw#cod ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x fem!reader
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A Guiding Hand
Simon "Ghost" Riley x virgin!fem!reader
You call a sex hotline looking to get some relief Ghost is happy to help.
cw: MDNI (18+) masturbation, dirty talk, use of nicknames
special thanks to @robinfeldt98 for giving me this idea!
Your hands shake as you type in the number on your phone. Your roommate gave it to you when you told her about yourâŠproblem. But now youâre afraid to commit, to actually call the number that youâve typed in. You just stare at it, willing yourself to hit the green button but you just canât.Â
You finally press it and the speaker button then hurry across the room, hoping that theyâll hear that no one is on the line and hang up. Thatâs what youâre hoping for but all of that goes out the window when you hear that husky, British voice.Â
You slowly come over to the phone after heâs greeted you, approaching it like you would a strange noise in your home.Â
âHi.â You finally get yourself to speak and your heart rate picks up when you hear a deep chuckle.Â
âThere she is,â he replies. âWhatâs your name, sweetheart?â You know you should give your name out to random men over the phone but this is his job, certainly he wouldnât do anything creepy with that information-at least you hope not.Â
âY/n.â
âY/n,â he repeats, the name coming out slowly like heâs getting a feel for it on his tongue. It sounds soâŠhot when he says it. âI like that. I wonder what it would sound like during climax.â It sounds like heâs close to the receiver and itâs almost like heâs whispering it to you in your quiet bedroom and it causes a shiver to skate down your spine.Â
Simon is never usually this forward. Thereâs usually a script that he created to make the calls flow easier, but you seem so nervous that he feels like he needs to take a different approach. Heâs treading lightly, not wanting to scare you off.Â
He doesnât know why, but you seemâŠdifferent from all the others. Youâre not flirting with him like everyone else does. This is clearly your first time and since he started this job, this is the only time heâs wanted to be sweet and gentle.Â
âSo whatâs the reason for your call, y/n?â He asks, his voice somehow getting even lower and you feel yourself getting wet already. How is he able to do that?Â
âArenât you going to tell me your name first?â You ask and he chuckles again, making your heart leap again.Â
âOh, where are my manners? Iâm Ghost.âÂ
âGhost.â You donât want to admit that you like it. That you can imagine yourself moaning it over and over even though youâve never done that before. Youâve never done-well, anything. And thatâs why youâre calling. To hopefully get some relief.Â
âIt sounds even better when you say it. So, whatâs the reason youâre calling, sweetheart?â The nickname causes your cheeks to heat and you canât believe how easily youâre playing right into his hand.Â
âWell-â you cut yourself off, unsure to tell him the truth without sounding weird. âIâve never-Iâve never had sex before.âÂ
âI see,â is all he says in response, waiting for you to finish your explanation.Â
âAnd Iâve neverâŠmasturbated either so I guess Iâm just looking for some relief. To take some edge off.âÂ
âWell, youâve come to the right place. How would you like me to help? You call the shots.âÂ
âMe? Why me?â You hate the idea of being in control. You want to be told what to do and how to do it. Youâve never done well in an authoritative role and he clearly has all the experience so youâd much rather have him take the reins.Â
âHey, letâs take a deep breath, darling.â he says. âIn,â he says and you both suck in some air. âAnd out. Good,â he says once youâve breathed all the air out. âIâm happy to take control if you want me too. Iâll do whatever you want. Iâm yours for the night.âÂ
No oneâs ever said that to you. No one has been soâŠeager to please you in this way and now you kind of wish you knew what Ghost looked like. If heâs as hot as his voice. Youâre sure he is but you donât know why. You want him to be here with you, knowing that it would ease your mind to have him standing in front of you.
But maybe itâs for the best that this is over the phone. Youâd hate for him to see just how nervous heâs making you. How hot your skin feels, how your heart hasnât stopped racing since he answered the phone.Â
Youâre so grateful that your roommate isnât home. The wall between your room is so thin that you just know sheâd be able to hear everything and you shudder just thinking about her overhearing this conversation.Â
âYou take the lead,â you tell him and even though you canât see him, Simon is grinning from ear to ear, loving the suggestion youâve just made. Heâll be submissive some other time. Tonight, heâs going to make you his whore.Â
âI thought youâd never ask,â he chuckles. âSo youâve really never touched yourself? Letâs start there. What are you wearing, y/n? Something hot?â
âUnfortunately not. Just a big t-shirt and panties. I-I was about to go to bed but I just canât sleep.â
 Even though Simon has no idea what you look like, the outfit youâve described is making him hard beyond belief. He closes his eyes, imagining sitting you down onto your bed, spreading your legs wide as he kisses you gently, pulling down your panties before fingering you until you beg him to stop, until you clench around him, screaming his name as you orgasm.Â
âGhost?â You ask and heâs immediately snapped out of his little fantasy. For the most part, doing this doesnât really do anything for him. Heâs done it so often that itâs just starting to feel like his job. But the fact that you want him to help you get yourself off-and for the first time-well that fills him with the kind of confidence he hasnât had in a long time.Â
âSorry, sweetheart,â he apologizes. âI lost focus imagining you in what you described. What Iâd do if I was there.â His voice is deeper, more seductive and you feel your panties getting progressively more wet the longer the conversation goes on. Heâs imagining scenarios too? God, you wish he was here. âWhere are you?âÂ
âIn my room.â
âAlright, first, I want you to lie on the bed.â You do as he asks and wait for his next instructions. Your phone is by your head now as you imagine him hovering over you, whispering into your ear.Â
âAre you on the bed, sweetheart?â He asks, his voice so gentle and you feel your heart warm at how gentle heâs being with you. You just know that other men wouldnât be so nice.
âI am,â you confirm with a nod even though he canât see you.Â
âNow I want you to take your panties off and spread your legs wide for me.â You slowly take your panties off and toss them to the side before pulling your t-shirt up to your waist so it doesnât get in the way. You then spread your legs wide, already wet as can be even though nothingâs happened yet. Thatâs just the effect that Ghost has had on you, suppose.Â
âAnd once youâre ready, I want you to press your ring and middle fingers together then insert them. Your pace doesnât matter. Go as fast or as slow as youâd like. This is all about you.âÂ
You bring your dominant hand up and hover it over your face as you do as he asks, you then take a deep breath, letting your eyes flutter shut as you slowly bring your hand to your cunt. You make a sound when they make contact, just the tips of your fingers sliding inside.Â
You make a whimpering noise at how foreign it feels and Simon feels his cock straining against his jeans at the pretty sound. God, he thinks heâs going to come.Â
âDoes it feel good, princess?â He asks in a whisper and this nickname is your favorite of the ones heâs called you tonight.Â
âSo good,â you reply, pushing your fingers in and out of your cunt. You canât believe youâve never done this before. If you had known how good it felt, you would have done it a lot sooner. Â
âA little faster. Can you do that for me?â You pick up your pace and all of these noises youâve never made before start spilling from your mouth as your free hand bunches up the sheets that are underneath you. You spread your legs wider to give yourself more access and it makes all the difference when your fingers get deeper, reaching a spot that feels better than all the rest.Â
âThatâs it, princess,â Simon responds. âJust like that. Doing so good for me.â Heâs now palming himself, so close to whipping it out and getting himself off, but he canât. This is about you and he doesnât want to get distracted from helping. Maybe if you call again, he can convince you to switch roles. âFuck youâre so hot.âÂ
Youâre close already, you can feel it. The movement mixed with Ghostâs encouraging words is making your head spin, making you feel dizzy. This is unlike anything youâve felt before and now you understand why so many people do this regularly.Â
âGhost, oh my god,â you whine as you finally reach your peak, back arching, your cunt clenching around your fingers. Hearing you moan his name, he lets out a little whimper, knowing that heâs going to take care of himself as soon as the call is over. He has no idea how the hell heâs going to be able to do any calls after this. Itâs the best one heâs ever had and now he hopes you call him all the time just so he can hear your pretty nosies again and again.Â
âFuck,â is all youâre able to say as yoouâre coming down, your body sticky with sweat as you remove your fingers.
âYou did so good,â he says, his voice soft again, sounding so different from just moments ago. âHow do you feel, princess? Bet you feel so good, donât you?â
âSo good,â you agree.Â
âWell, I guess my job here is done. Same time tomorrow?â His tone is making it sound like heâs joking, but he really does want you to call tomorrow. And every day after that.â
âItâs a date,â you reply, your voice sounding a little tired.
âAlright, same time tomorrow. Iâll keep the line open so you just call this number again. Now go clean up and get some rest, princess. Youâve earned it for being such a good girl.â The line goes dead and you just lie there, not sure you can go to sleep after that, already counting down the minutes until you can call Ghost again.Â
part two part three
#ghost x reader#ghost smut#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x fem!reader#ghost x virgin!reader#simon riley x virgin!reader#ghost x y/n
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Iâve only had your baker! simon for one day and I already know that I would cause mass destruction if something happened to him đ no but seriously such a cute and fun read I loved it thank you so much for sharing!
He is my BABY and I am obsessed <3
Part 2 of this!
Warnings: Simon is healing đ€ Fem!Reader.
Simonâs heart skips a beat. Itâs a scam, itâs got to be. No way such a pretty woman would dare talk to him, business move or not. Although, the more he looks through your profile and sees the amount of posts youâre tagged in, itâs easy to conclude that you are, in fact, real. Regardless, heâs still wary as he finally begins typing out a response.
â No charge? Sounds too good to be true. Whatâs the catch?
Maybe a little harsh, but heyâcan never be too careful nowadays. If thereâs one thing the military instilled in him, itâs to trust nobody. Simon flops down onto his couch, fingers anxiously tapping along his knee as he watches you type, the ellipses disappearing and reappearing again. He wonders if youâre just as nervous as he is, but if that were the case, surely you wouldnât have contacted him first.
â No catch, I promise! No offense, itâs just that your pictures are a little grainy and I donât believe they act as a great showcase for your talent. Really, I just want to show you how pretty your treats can look on camera!
Simon sucks his teeth stubbornly. He knows his pictures arenât the best, but fucking hell, must everybody point it out? Heâs about to type a scathing response and block you, but another message pops up beneath your previous one.
â Please, just a chance. Weâre in the same area, so I can just come to you, wherever you want me.
A heavy sigh escapes the big man. His therapist has been telling him heâs too uptight, suggesting that he should balance out his peace by stepping out of his comfort zone once in a while. Besides, whenâs the last time a sweet girl has given him the light of day? Heâd be a fool to pass up this opportunity. Simon pinches the crooked bridge of his nose, trying to talk some sense into himself. Itâs not like itâs a date, simply just two businesses helping each other out. If it doesnât work, he never has to see you again.
Yeah, that sounds good. If everything goes up in flames, he can simply block you and move on with his life, continuing to post shitty pictures of his desserts. His thumbs twitch before tapping the screen once again.
â Youâve beat it out of me. When are you available?
Your response comes faster than he can blink.
â Saturday?
Two days. That gives him plenty of time to prepare (and maybe get Price to order an extensive background check on you). Simon can do that, no problem.
â I can be ready for you by about half 11.
Ready for you? Fucksâ sake, what is this? Sheâs not a bloody prostitute.
â That sounds good! Just send me your address day of. Iâm looking forward to it!! :)
Simon smiles. Simon smiles, and he doesnât even realize it. If he did, he would fix it immediatelyâbut he doesnât. Instead thereâs a pep in his step when he stands from the couch, grabbing his journal and scribbling down his thoughts and ideas for what heâll make on Saturday. His therapist will be proud.
Simon allows himself to be proud as well.
#MY BABY MY BABYYYY#ask me!#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#baker!Simon#ghost x female reader#ghost x fem!reader#baker!Simon x fem!reader
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⥠Cocktail Parties || Ghost
‷ summary : (fem!version) arguing with you right before an undercover op wasn't... the smartest, because now he has to watch you flirt with strangers. link to male!reader version!


âpairing : simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader (dress wearing reader), tf 141 mentioned âcontent warning : (un)established relationship (you can choose), jealousy, anger, slight angst, suggestive, arguments, mentions of drinking/alcohol, men & women flirt with reader âword count : 1.5 k âa/n : ashgfhsgjg j- nothing- :)


The night was still young, on the crest of dipping into the rich gala that embodied upper-class society: Women and men alike danced in a whirl of sequins, satin and silk. Flaunting bubbling flutes of champagne and pretty lies. Bodies, throats, and wrists fitted snuggly and dripping in diamonds.
It was truly a party for the top one-percent of society. The extravagant guestlist filled to the brim with cold business moguls, old money, the famous, and the beautiful. Each bumping shoulders with glittery laughs and white smiles.
It gave Ghost a headache. Watching through the lenses of his binoculars as the crystal chandeliers glinted off the marble ballroom and directly into his retinas.
The operation had only 'officially' started merely an hour ago. The moment your shiny shoes kissed the floors below. And Ghost had come into it pissed.
Coiled up tighter than a snake and twice as twitchy, just a hair's breadth away from lashing out at the first thing that interrupted his brooding.
Price and the others had noticed, but decided not to comment on the Lieutenants hard-set jaw and his white knuckle death grip on the binoculars.
The three remaining member of Taskforce 141 exchanged knowing glances. Each of them knew it.
The two of you had fought before this.
About what? Nobody was going to ask. Not with him silently seething and muttering curses over the comms like a dreary static.
To say they were utterly relieved to be positioned away from him was an understatement. Eager to give the Lieutenant his space.
It left Ghost to his own thoughts, propped on the roof of the venue, looming over the edge of the intricately crafted glass dome like an ominous shadow. Giving him the perfect opportunity to watch over you-the Taskforce's trump card-as you gathered information on the ground and mingled.
Tonight, the collective mission was to get close to the target. To pick up information on most of the guests here, even a little. Each guest having their hands in less-than-legal business ventures. One man in particular... DeLuca or some asshole-ish name along the lines... who cared.
Ghost had something more important on his mind tonight.
He hadn't taken his eyes off you since you'd stepped foot in the building. The sight of you was enough to punch a hole clean through his chest and leave him burning up on the edges.
You walked the floor like you owned it, had to make sure of it to blend in with such an elegant crowd. A grin pulling at your lips, dripping with a natural charm that made hearts flutter. Eyes turning kindly towards whoever spoke to you or tried to catch your attention. Returning needy, simmering glances with a coy, knowing tense in your shoulders.
That was it. He was going to break these stupid fucking binoculars clean in half-
but ffuck-! He couldn't!
It would leave him without a way to watch you properly.
Ghost grit his teeth instead, suddenly forgetting to breathe under all the tension that was building up in his muscles. His legs were stiff. The one he was knelt on completely numb from the position, and his biceps were locked in a fierce bundle of (what he was convinced could only be) residual anger from your fight.
You moved through the fray of millionaires with a casualness that alluded confidence. Not afraid to gently part through the mass of high maintenance bodies and figures in a bid to get closer to the target on the other side of the ballroom. It caught the attention of those around you in a way that didn't bother the Captain, but rather, the Lieutenant.
The patrons of the party not looking with suspicion... but desire. A desire to know the woman who was walking with a quiet purpose and without a second glance back at them. When their time was worth thousands... you seemed to spare not a second on them.
Ghost couldn't even remember what the two of you had been fighting about. The entire gist of the argument flying out of his head as he watched. They all looked at you like they had a fucking chance in hell with you. It made his blood boil. The sounds of his contempt catching over the comms. "Fucking-... bloody b-... always-..."
Women with dark made-up lashes let their gazes fall over you as you passed, offering tiny giggles. Men trying to step into your path 'accidentally' and introduce themselves. Vying for your attention, or at least, your name.
Ghost had been so caught up in the fight. So angry and refusing to be anything less than right that he hadn't seen you since earlier today. Had missed the way you had gotten ready for the operation-for the party.
You had cleaned up well. Hair trimmed and styled neatly, a few locks dropping tantalizingly near your temple. And... "fuck me" Ghost muttered inaudibly... Your black dress fit your body like a dream. Sleek and elegant, enhancing the curves of your shoulders and chest, sinched to a fault at the waist.
Ghost felt a heat begin to bloom over his body and trickle down to the swell in his pants. Drinking in and savoring the sight of you even if he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. His brown eyes followed your silhouette, eye wandering down the soft curve of your hip and the slit in your dress that revealed the supple skin of your thigh... The sleek fabric made your legs look...
Fuck, you were beautiful.
He shook his head and grumbled some more, still trying to huff in defiance of how he felt. Even if he was still heated, it was for an entirely different reason now.
Within range of the target, you stopped just short of Deluca's social circle by picking up a bubbling flute of champagne to avert suspicion. Before you could even pretend to bring the rim of the glass up to your lips, a woman's hand clasped gently over your shoulder, running over the fine fabric of your dress with a perfectly manicured caress. A soft, sharp smile dancing across her lips as she stepped in front of you, inviting herself into your space seamlessly. Her hand lingering and trailing down your bicep before she pulled it away.
Ghosts gloves creaked in protest again as he gripped his binoculars tighter. Watching her eyes rover over your face, tracing your jawline with a bone-deep confidence in herself. Had Ghost been down there, no one would lay a hand on you like that. No one would even be able to fucking shoot you a longing glance.
The man who accompanied her followed, debonair and smoky, reaching out a strong hand to shake yours in greeting. He bowed his head, gripping your hand subtly and leaning forward in order to steal a more intimate glance. His eyes flickering down to your lips before a grin pulled at his cheek and he stepped back.
The two making easy conversation with you.
"That cocky fucking bastard," Ghost seethed, attention zeroing in on the walking trust fund in front of you.
It was part of the operation. He had to tell himself that to keep his fucking head on straight.
You were in the best spot to pick up chatter from the target behind you. Indulging in laughs with people who had learned how to carry one without a second thought.
And there wasn't a fucking thing Ghost could do about it except watch. The way people teased and flirted so openly with you, stealing touches and glances. Drinking you in like the sparkling bubbles they held flawlessly between their fingers. All haughty gazes and blatant interest.
It made Ghost's stomach and chest roil with disgust. A deep heat settling over his body. The anger that once simmered in his veins was now laced with an even uglier emotion: unbridled jealousy.
No. After this fucking farce of an operation was over and you were back with the team... He was going to find you. Fuck-! you were his the moment you stepped out of this building.
The thought made his body flutter with rage and lust. The idea of having you alone now, in that dress of yours and all to himself, was a dangerous one.
You were going to get an ear full after this... fuck, maybe more. The image of his own hands running over your dress flashing into his mind. Hiking your leg over his waist, kissing you until your pretty hair was disheveled and your dress rumpled under his hands.
Those rich pricks would get an eye full of you now-let them-because he was going to be the only one to see you writhing and blushing beneath him at the end of the night.
#call of duty#x reader#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#x you#x y/n#reader insert#imagines#cod simon ghost riley#cod ghost#ghost cod#simon riley#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#x fem reader#x female reader#ghost x reader#ghost x fem!reader#oneshot
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